1692 and All That
by Publicola
Summary: A Memorable History of Magic, comprising all the parts you can remember from Binns and Bagshot, including 103 Goblin Rebellions, 5 Chocolate Frog Cards, and 2 Genuine Facts. A companion piece to "Magical Me," inspired by my 'Map of Magical Europe.'
1. A Memorable History of Magic

1692 and All That: A Memorable History of Magic  
By Publicola

Published 5-3-14

Disclaimer: J.K. Rowling owns the Harry Potter books and films; I don't. Nor am I W.C. Sellar or R.J. Yeatman, whose '1066 and All That' inspired the title of this fic (1066 was the Battle of Hastings; 1692 was the Statute of Secrecy). Finally, I don't own history, as in the concept or any facts thereof. I do own the world-building that does not pertain directly to the Harry Potter universe, but as I'm publishing this as a Harry Potter fan-fic, I doubt it really counts. Lastly, I do own the Map of Magical Europe (posted at **imgur . com / a / r9XnQ**, linked from my profile) that inspired the story itself.

Note: This fic is a companion piece to 'Magical Me,' though neither one is necessary to understand or appreciate the other.

* * *

**A Memorable History of Magic**

"Who are you?"

"Good afternoon, class. My name is Professor Mortimer Toke, and I was hired by the Wizarding Examination Authority to fill in for Mr. Binns for the remainder of the year. It is, to be sure, an unprecedented step to replace a sitting professor half-way through the school term. However, it became necessary when the WEA was made aware of a single pertinent fact. A question, if any of you can answer it: can a ghost open or make withdrawals from a Gringotts vault?"

A stupefied silence filled the room.

"Anyone? Ah. Miss Granger, was it?"

She nodded. "Do you mean to tell us that Professor Binns wasn't being paid?"

"Correct: two points to Gryffindor. The late Mr. Binns was a well-regarded lecturer in his day, but for the last forty-seven years, Mr. Binns has been nothing more than a volunteer. Hogwarts has not had an Professor of Magical History on staff since the day he died. It appears that Headmaster Dippet simply transferred the position's salary back to the Hogwarts general fund, where it was since used as an all-purpose staff expense account, entirely unrelated to this class. There's also been some indication that certain funds were… re-allocated… to the Board of Governors, to encourage them to overlook the violation of the Hogwarts' Charter."

"How dare you! When my father hears about—"

"Sit down, Mr. Malfoy! Needless to say, the matter is still under investigation by the WEA, working in conjunction with the Department of Magical Law Enforcement and the Gringotts Auditors Office. In the interim, it was necessary to fill the vacant staff position, especially as it concerned one of Hogwarts' core classes. And so here I find myself. Now, can anyone tell me what topics Binns has lectured on most recently? Yes, Mr. Zabini."

"Er, the goblin rebellion of 1704, sir?"

"Was that a question?"

"Er, no, sir."

"Then thank you for letting me know: two points to Slytherin. As much as I wish I were wrong, it appears that Mr. Binns' habits are not much changed from the time I studied in this class. However fascinating these events may be, the truth is that the goblin rebellions were quite limited in duration and scope, taking place sporadically during the 17th and 18th centuries, and almost entirely within the British Isles. To focus on them to the exclusion of all else is to do you a profound disservice. Now, can anyone tell me the name of your textbook and its author for this class? Yes, Mr. Finnegan."

"A History of Magic, by Bathilda Bagshot, sir."

"Correct: two points to Gryffindor. While Bagshot is a celebrated magical historian, and her works does not share the same obvious weaknesses as Binns' obsession with goblins, her History of Magic is known to have quite a few issues of its own. If you have your books, please open them with me to page 254, and read starting from the second paragraph."

And as he read, the words appeared in chalk on the blackboard at the front of the class:

* * *

_It was in 1362 that the Wizards' Council, under the leadership of Chief Burdock Muldoon, issued a decree making it illegal to play Quidditch or any other aerial wizarding sport within 50 miles of a muggle settlement or town. This ban was soon amended, however, in the Wizards' Council of 1368, which made it illegal to play Quidditch within 100 miles of a muggle town._

_This state of affairs continued for the next several decades, though not without incident, as there were quite a few occasions where Quidditch games were discovered by muggles from neighboring towns. This was of course the origin for the many rumors in the muggle world about witches flying about on broomsticks._

_Finally, in 1399 the Wizards' Council met again, under Muldoon's successor Elfrida Clagg, and issued a final decree, to ensure that the sport could be enjoyed without fear of muggle persecution: that Quidditch should not be played anywhere there is the slightest chance a Muggle could see, and that violators of the decree would be chained to the wall of a dungeon until they knew better._

* * *

"I see some of you are chuckling to yourselves, as well you should. So what have you learned? Miss Patil."

"That sightings of early Quidditch games lead to the muggle stories about broomsticks."

"Correct. Miss Greengrass?"

"That the Wizards' Council had the power to arrest and imprison offenders of its laws?"

"Excellent. Mr. Potter?"

"That the Wizards' Council at the time was presided over by this Muldoon guy, then Elfrida Clagg?"

"Correct. Mr. Nott."

"That the Wizards' Council was responsible for preserving the secrecy of our world."

"Very good! Two points for each answer: four to Gryffindor, four to Slytherin. Now, can anyone tell me how far 100 miles is?"

No one raised their hands.

"Anyone?"

One hand finally, timidly rose.

"Ah, yes. Miss Granger."

"100 miles – isn't that about the distance from London to Bristol?"

"Correct, Miss Granger, almost exactly right: four points to Gryffindor. Here's another way of looking at it – the length of the border between England and Scotland is less than 100 miles. So what can we learn from that?"

No one answered him.

"Anyone? Yes, Miss Davis."

"Bristol and London are two of the bigger towns, but there are plenty of others. 100 miles from any of them… there'd hardly be anything left."

"To be precise, Miss Davis, there would be nothing left. Four points to Slytherin. The practical effect of a law banning Quidditch for a distance of 100 miles around every non-magical town, would be to ban Quidditch from British shores entirely."

No one spoke.

"Look at the passage again."

And as he spoke, sections of the passage began to cross themselves out on the blackboard.

"The Wizards' Council did not meet in 1362. Burdock Muldoon was one of its better-known chiefs, but his tenure began almost a hundred years late, in 1448. The first decree restricted Quidditch from being played in a space of 5 miles around specific cities – about thirty were listed: London, Bristol, York, all the most populated ones – and 2 miles around all other towns. This decree was issued by the Wizards' Council of 1227, under the leadership of Barberus Bragge. Quidditch was, incidentally, still called 'Cuadditch' at the time; it's modern name was not then in use. The date given for the second decree is correct – it was issued in 1368, though not by the Wizard's Council. And that second decree did double the distance restrictions from the previous decree, but those distances were 10 miles and four miles, respectively, not 100 miles.

"While there were several incidents were Quidditch games were observed by non-magicals, these were not what lead to the reports of witches riding broomsticks, which first appeared in non-magical records in the late Renaissance, in the 1500's and 1600's. The earliest documents from the 1400's actually speak of witches flying through the air on stools, cupboards, and two-pronged cooking forks – broomstick sightings were in fact a much later development.

"Muldoon's successor was Elfrida Clagg, but she was chief of the Wizards' Council through the late 1400's, not the 1300's. The Council did meet in 1499, though not in 1399, but neither Muldoon nor Clagg were involved in issuing regulations for Quidditch games. By that time the power to do so had been passed to a separate governing body, whose authority only extended to banning players from playing in official League teams, not imprisonment.

"And finally, who can tell me the year that the Statute of Secrecy was signed? It shouldn't be a hard question, it's the single most important piece of magical legislation in history. Yes, Miss Parkinson."

"The Statute of Secrecy was ratified in 1692, sir."

"Correct, two points to Slytherin. So tell me, why would the Wizards' Council be interested in preserving the secrecy of the magical world, a full 300 years before the magical world was actually a secret?"

No one answered.

"The Council's reasons for keeping Quidditch games away from non-magical spectators was entirely unrelated to the desire for secrecy, or fear of non-magical persecution. In short, as I hope you've figured out by now, this and the rest of the passage we just read is sheer and utter poppycock. One of the most celebrated authors of the subject, writing on one of the most-recorded periods of early magical history, and there are too many errors to count. It falls to me to inform you that Bagshot has an unfortunate but well-documented history of disregarding facts – ignoring them if they get in the way of a good story, or even making them up to press a point. Like Binns, she has a tendency to focus almost exclusively on magical Britain, ignoring the rest of the world and only occasionally mentioning Europe. Unlike Binns, however, she is known for being quite biased in her treatment of history.

"For instance, though the book was first published in 1947 and then updated with a second edition in 1984, it does not cover any of the events after the year 1900, and her treatment of the 1800's is cursory at best. According to industry rumor, the publisher removed a considerable amount of content due to Bagshot's sympathizing with certain unsavory political figures, such as Laudislaus Gaunt, the Hogwarts Headmaster who spent his final years in Azkaban for torturing muggles in violation of the Statute of Secrecy, or Phineas Nigellus Black, the 'least popular Headmaster ever' who was rumored to have carried on several affairs with underage students.

"Of course, that's not to mention her most scandalous connection: Bathilda Bagshot is the great-aunt of Gellert Grindelwald, and has been heard on many occasions to defend her 'misunderstood' grand-nephew. It's widely understood that this is why her book contains no content past the year 1900, for the chapters she sent to her publisher were not so much history as they were a lengthy defense of the 'poor boy' who directly caused the worst bloodbath in the history of Europe, magical and non-magical alike. This bias, along with her contempt for facts, is well-known outside Britain, though you never know it from this class."

After a few seconds of silence, a hand traced its well-worn path into the air.

"Yes, Miss Granger?"

"So – so everything we know, everything we were taught, is… is wrong?"

"Almost, but not everything. If you were able to stay awake during class, Binns is fairly reliable in the specific facts he provides, though his interpretation of what those facts mean may be often distorted by his obsession with goblin wars. But everything in your textbook, everything in A History of Magic, everything in Hogwarts: a History or any of Bagshot's other works – yes. You must take them with a grain of salt, if not several heaping tablespoons."

"Oh."

"It was a good question. It is both fortunate and unfortunate that the OWL and NEWT exams in this subject are written by individuals who took this very class, who learned from Binns and read from Bagshot. It is fortunate because the tests will not expect you to have mastered as much material beyond what you've learned here. It's unfortunate because those tests will have to be almost entirely rewritten to cover the new material, and remove the false facts taken from Bagshot's works. Now, as Miss Parkinson informed us, the Statute of Secrecy was signed in 1692. What should that tell us about the history of magic before and after that point?"

A few seconds passed before the answer came.

"Yes, Mr. Potter?"

"Well, you said that before the Statute, magic wasn't actually a secret, so shouldn't the history of the magical world be pretty much the same as the history of the non-magical world?"

"Excellent, Mr. Potter! Four points to Gryffindor. Does everyone understand what was just said? Prior to the Statute of Secrecy, the history of magic and the history of non-magic are the same. Yes, the records of observed magic were mostly destroyed or hidden once the Statute was signed, but that was not comprehensive. This is why there are still stories of Merlin and King Arthur, stories of Atlantis, stories of Greek and Roman gods. This is why the parselmouth Patrick is still recognized by non-magicals as the patron saint of Ireland, why our magical hospital is named after Saint Mungo Bonham, the man once said to have baptized Merlin. Next question: going by the year the Statute was signed, what can we conclude about magical history after that point? Yes, Miss Bulstrode."

"If magical and non-magical history were the same before, then wouldn't they be different after?"

"Sure, that works. Two points to Slytherin. This is a more complicated subject, because the Statute of Secrecy was in many cases negotiated with and approved by non-magical governments – this is why our Minister must report to a representative of the British Crown, usually the Prime Minister. The world wars sparked by Grindelwald illustrate another complicating factor, for he worked quite closely with the Prussian then German leaders, and in many cases his magical forces fought alongside their non-magical war machine.

"But the overarching pattern holds: the magical world split from the non-magical world in 1692, so the default borders between magical communities are the same borders that existed between non-magical countries at that point in time. Obviously those borders have changed, but those changes do not always reflect the changes we see in non-magical countries. Hence, non-magical Lithuania may be a tiny country along the Baltic sea, until recently a satellite state of Soviet Russia. But magical Lithuania is another story entirely: it is the dominant power in Eastern and Central Europe, its borders stretch from Baltic to Black Sea, and far from it being a satellite state, the Tsardom of Russia is practically a satellite to it."

"In short, ladies and gentlemen, witches and wizards, take your wands and cast your best sticking charms on the seat of your pants, because it's going to be a wild ride. We have a lot of ground to cover and not much time to cover it. I've sent a letter to your parents explaining the need to purchase new history textbooks, but until our next class, I've copied the relevant chapters from our text. Pick those up at the front of the class before you leave, and I will see you next week."

* * *

**A/N**: Thanks for reading, and please review — I look forward to your feedback. In case you were wondering, the names, dates, and events from the excerpt to Bagshot's History of Magic is taken straight from Rowling, though the quoted passage itself is original to this fic. You can check out the entry for "Wizards' Council" on the Harry Potter wiki for more information.

This fic was inspired by the 'Map of Magical Europe' that I created to illustrate some of the world-building I'd done for my self-insert fic 'Magical Me'. You can find a link to that map on my profile, or simply type the following in to your browser's address bar: **imgur . com / a / r9XnQ**. Explanations of the various names and features can be found on my Discussion Forum, also linked from my profile.

I may in the future add a Table of Contents to this first chapter, but I'll leave that decision for later.

Sadly, contrary to Professor Toke's final words in this chapter, I can't guarantee it will be posted next week, nor can I promise a regular update schedule for this fic, as my focus will mainly be on my other works. Even so, I hope you enjoyed the chapter.

**A/N 2**: Due to my dissatisfaction with the original title (a plodding 'The True History of Magic') I posted a poll on my profile and corresponding topic on my forum asking for suggestions for a better title for this story. I later updated with a new title (inspired by the tongue-in-cheek history of England '1066 and All That'):

**1692 and All That: A Memorable History of Magic**

**comprising all the parts you can remember from Binns and Bagshot, including 103 Goblin Rebellions, 5 Chocolate Frog Cards, and 2 Genuine Facts  
and so much more!**

Sadly, this proved to be a rather unpopular choice, so I've since reverted back to the original title, and kept the poll and forum topic open if anyone can think of a better option.

**A/N 3: **A little more than a year after my original reversal, I've decided to disregard the poll and go with my gut. So, the permanent title will remain the tongue-in-cheek version above. Sorry, but I got tired on going back and forth on the matter in my head. Enjoy the new chapter!


	2. Tribes and Totemism: Magical Prehistory

1692 and All That  
By Publicola

Published 7-19-15

Disclaimer: I don't own the rights to the Harry Potter books and films (but you knew that). Nor do I own the rights to my own title, as W.C. Sellar and R.J. Yeatman were the ones to pen '1066 and All That' that I am most sincerely flattering above. I do own the world-building that is not Rowling's own, and I do own the Map of Magical Europe (linked from my profile) that inspired the story itself.

Note: This fic is a companion piece to 'Magical Me,' though neither one is necessary to understand or appreciate the other.

* * *

**Tribes and Totemism: A Magical Prehistory**

"Who can tell me how magic started?"

The sudden question broke over the quiet murmuring of the early morning class, as Professor Toke unceremoniously dumped his papers on the desk at the front of the room.

"To put it another way, what was the first field of magic? Was it transfiguration? Perhaps one of the dark arts? Anyone? Yes, Miss Turpin."

"...Charms?"

"Good guess, but not quite. Anyone else? Yes, Miss Bones."

"Herbology?"

"Very close; two points to Hufflepuff. It is vital for us to remember that the dominant concern for most people for most of human history has been one of how to get enough food to survive. It was this that led our ancestors to abandon their hunter-gather ways of life and build the first cities. Despite what most people think, early civilization did not make people healthier or happier – in fact, people in those first cities often lived shorter lives than their nomadic cousins. It was not that living in a city made their diets more nutritious; rather, farming made their food sources more reliable. Wheat and barley don't run away from you, after all."

Professor Toke paused to take a breath. "So you're right, in a way. Herbology undoubtedly developed at the dawn of civilization, making it one of the first branches of magic in existence. But there was one other that preceded it. Any ideas?"

Silence, then a shy hand was raised. "You… you mentioned hunter-gatherers. Was the first magic related to hunting?"

"Very good! Take five points for Ravenclaw, Miss Li. How many of you have seen the list of Hogwarts' elective classes? They only become available to you next year, so you aren't expected to – one, two, three, four, five – huh. Didn't expect everyone from Ravenclaw to know the list. Yes, Mr. Corner?"

"Err, Professor Flitwick sat down with us at the beginning of the year so we'd have time to think it over."

"Very good; thank you Mr. Corner. For those who don't know the list, one of the offered class is called 'Care of Magical Creatures.' Though not quite the same, it certainly does bear resemblance to the first branch of magic developed. These magics developed primarily to make the tribe more efficient at hunting the herds that ranged nearby. Soon however, they took on a different aspect. It was clear very early on that any tribe that could tame an animal would have an immense advantage – its food source could be kept nearby, and more of the animal could be brought back for the whole tribe's use. The danger was that many of the animals hunted were too dangerous to be kept near the women and children of the group. Thus it was by the genius of these early magicians that such animals could be made peaceful – usually by some totemic ritual, taking on an aspect of the herd's alpha. Tribes assisted by these earliest totemists would thus flourish, and so the practice spread."

"Skip forward several centuries later. By now, many types of animals are pastured near the various tribes, but those tamed herds are still merely a food source. It was still necessary to go on long-ranging hunts in order to capture more of them. But at last the great innovation came, when someone realized that some of these animals could be something more than food, that they might help in the day-to-day work of the tribe. I say someone, but in fact we have a pretty good idea of who this person was. We don't know how her name would sound in original Altaic, but for now we can use our own spelling and phonetics. Can everyone say with me, Aramate?"

The class echoed uncertainly.

"Very good. Aramate was a young girl, probably a student like any one of you, being taught in the art of magic by an older and more experienced shaman. She did, however, possess a rather unique talent."

With an abrupt twist Professor Toke turned his back on the class and raised his wand. A hazy glow settled at the front of the desk, out of which coalesced a monstrous shape.

"This, witches and wizards, is a chanko. It was the ancestor for most wolves found in Eurasia, though it most closely resembles the Tibetan woolly wolf. This was Aramate's talent: where other magicians struggled, she found it remarkably easy to forge the totemic links between it and herself. She was the one who proposed using these wolves to keep the other herds in line – imagine it, a little girl with such confidence in her control of _this_ that she would suggest using them to guard their own natural prey. But she did, and it worked. Some time later Aramate proposed a second great innovation – if the wolves could be used to herd tamed animals, couldn't they also be used as part of the hunting party, to corral wild animals for capture."

The glowing wolf disappeared, and the students refocused on their professor, now intently gazing back at them.

"This was the first instance of domestication anywhere in the world. And so it was: the tribe prospered, the practice spread, and Aramate became the first person in history whose name we know. Her fame spread first in oral tradition, as the greatest of the totemists, then in written tradition as the oldest and most storied of the gods. She became the Hindu goddess Sarama, mother of all dogs and domesticable beasts. She became Artemis, virgin goddess of the hunt. She became, quite simply, the first legend."

A pregnant pause followed.

"We skip ahead several thousands of year – and not a few, more like a couple dozen. By now dogs are thoroughly domesticated, and various tribes in various regions have tried their hand at doing the same for other animals – most successfully in East Asia with the pig and the Middle East with the sheep. Still, neither of these animals were game-changing, so society remained firmly rooted in the hunter-gatherer tradition. Can anyone guess what changed that? Yes?"

"Was it the horse?"

"Very close, Mr. Hopkins. Take four points for Hufflepuff, you were on the right track. It was the addition of a domesticated draft animal, but the horse still had several thousand years to go. No, it was the cow that sparked this great tidal shift, called the Neolithic or Agricultural Revolution. We're not sure which came first, but in quick succession two kinds of cattle were domesticated – one in the Middle East, near the headwaters of the Euphrates, the other further east, near the delta of the Indus river valley."

With an absent wave of his wand, a map of the region appeared in midair, with the two regions briefly glowing to point out their location before the whole set-up popped out of existence.

"No longer would tribes be forced to migrate every year, to forage for new sources of food. The introduction of a draft animal made it possible to plow, to plant, to irrigate – in other words, to do all the things that made farms and thus cities a real possibility. It still wasn't easy, and the barrage of new challenges left many tribes and their totemists behind in the ash-heap of history. The greatest magicians set their minds to the task, and it was their efforts that led, as Miss Bones pointed out at the beginning, to the modern-day field of Herbology. They were not, however, working without precedent. Eyes front!"

As before, Professor Toke turned and waved his wand. The hazy glow settled as before, but this time –

"Augh!" "What?" A chorus of shocked voices and incredulous giggles broke out.

"Pff, don't be so easily offended. Children…" he said with a dismissive sound. "Now pay attention. This is the Venus of Dolní Věstonice, and it is the first surviving ceramic figure produced by human hands. It dates back as far as 29,000 BC, but it is only one of hundreds of such prehistoric 'Venus figurines' that survived to present day. More incredibly, the magic in them still works. These statuettes were designed and produced by almost all prehistoric tribes, for totemic use during childbirth. Note carefully the exaggerated thighs, hips and breasts. Can anyone tell me why these characteristics are important? Yes, Mr. Boot."

"Guh… uh… I…"

"All right, we'll try again later. Yes, Miss Jones."

"Uh… If these were used to help with childbirth, then… how? They didn't have wands, right?"

"Go on," Toke nodded encouragingly.

"Okay, so if they didn't have wands, then they must have used this like a wand, to channel magic. But you said it was ceramic – which is like clay, I think? – and that doesn't channel magic very well, so it must not work a wand, even if it does help magic along. The only thing I can think of… I think it was the book we use for Charms that mentioned... something called 'magical harmonics'? Is that right?"

"Very good, Miss Jones! Ten points for Hufflepuff; excellent work. The standard term for it is 'the sympathetic property,' but 'magical harmonics' is also acceptable usage. Put simply, when two objects are sufficiently similar and a connection is established, then magic that is applied to one will also apply to the other. So the over-exaggerated features of the Venus figurine, which might make it seem obscene to our modern eyes, was intended to ensure that it would more closely resemble a heavily pregnant woman of that tribe shortly before she was to give birth. It was the development and totemic use of these statuettes that led to a population boom among Eurasian hunter-gatherers, an explosion in the use of stone and flint tools, and the dawn of the Upper Paleolithic Age. It was, in short, a rather big deal."

Professor Toke took another breath. "These statuettes also served another purpose: establishing the first and most fundamental principle of magic usage, that like produces like and magical effects resemble their causes. With this principle in mind, the first herbologists of the new agricultural age found quick success in their efforts to boost crop production. This led to the sure success of early farming communities and the rapid spread of that way of life. Communities sprang up along all the major river valleys – the Nile in Egypt, the Tigris and Euphrates in Mesopotamia, the Indus and Ganges in India, and the Yellow and Yangtze in China."

He waved his wand as he spoke, and a similar map as the first appeared out of a haze, each region again glowing in time with his words.

"Of course, with this new reliable and abundant source of food, it was inevitable that human population began to grow at an unprecedented rate. Even more astoundingly, a significant portion of these new generations did not have to spend every moment of their lives in constant pursuit of new sources of food. This introduced, not incidentally, the very concept of leisure to the human race. Of course, because we humans are rather easily bored, we started using this leisure time to develop a slew of new activities. Some people started specializing in various crafts – metal-working, cloth-making, that sort of thing. Other people focused their energy on transportation and trade – now that tribes were settled in known locations, it was possible to travel and exchange goods with more regularity. And finally, especially with these new trade connections, it was soon found necessary to develop the greatest innovation of all. This was the advent of writing."

With an almost disgruntled look, Professor Toke paused. "I should clarify that there is a great deal of controversy about precisely when writing was 'invented'." His scare-quotes around the word were audible. "While it is clear that writing in its modern sense appeared only after the rise of agriculture, we do know of multiple nomadic societies that made use of symbolic scripts, what historians sometimes call 'proto-writing.' The difference is… well, it's kind of like the difference between writing single-words labels on a filing cabinet and writing entire pages of words to store within those cabinets. What makes the matter even more confusing is that we know some – but not all – of these scripts were developed by totemists, as they do appear to have distinct if crude magical function, almost always relying on the sympathetic property. This has led certain luminaries in the field of Ancient Runes to claim that theirs is the oldest field of magic. This is widely disputed in professional circles, especially by those outside that field, but it must at least be mentioned."

The professor took a moment, his relief at moving on apparent to all. "All this is well and good, but by now you should have figured out that something is rather amiss with this history. In fact, I have skipped a topic that could have easily comprised the full lecture."

At this, several Ravenclaw students sat notably straighter in their chairs, and the few fading Hufflepuffs lost their slouches.

"Any ideas? Anyone? … yes, Miss Brocklehurst."

"Err, did it have to do with fishing an' stuff? Water is lots a' places, and you said the first farmers were 'long rivers and valleys, right?"

"Indeed, Miss Brocklehurst, I did not mention fishing, though that is usually treated as part of nomadic hunting activity. Nice catch, though. Anyone else? Yes, Mr. Smith."

"Was it about stealing?"

"Correct. As long as there have been humans living around other humans, we have had to deal with the problem of crime. Why bother hunting and gather for yourself after all when your neighbor is returning from a hunt with plenty of food and barely any energy to defend their claim to it? But it's bigger than just a simple matter of theft. Five points to Hufflepuff, by the way. If between now and the end of class, I were to steal one of your quills, Mr. Goldstein, you might be annoyed, but I very much doubt you'd die of it. But when your tribe is already on the brink of survival, when everything you do is focused on finding and keeping enough food to keep you and your loved ones alive, then theft of any of that becomes itself a matter of life and death. Why should a tribe bother hunting and gathering, when its neighbors could easily show up while they're away and take it all away?"

"More importantly from a magical point of view, in many cases when these raids happened, their target was not primarily the others' food supply. Given, as we've seen, the importance of the early totemists in ensuring a tribe survives and grows, it shouldn't survive us that in many cases those early magicians were themselves the primary target of many raiders. If you could steal food, you might eat for a week; but steal a magician, and you would eat for years. More often than not, it was precisely these raids that led to the spread of magical innovations like the early Venus figurines or the domestication of dogs. For their part, the totemists were often helpless before these raiders – much like the king in a game of chess, their skills made them valuable beyond all compare, but earning those skills took time, time they could not dedicate to hardening themselves for war."

A wry grin appeared on the Professor's face. "As before, there are certain professors in the field of Charms – Mr. Flitwick is not one of them, you need not worry – who insist that it was during this phase of human history that the first cantrips came to be used. While this is certainly possible, it seems highly unlikely. We will cover this to a greater extent in the next class, but especially in this period of history a single cantrip could easily take a magician's entire life to develop for use, a lifetime that they could not spend helping the rest of the tribe survive. Unless a single tribe could enjoy such a prolonged period of peace and prosperity, while also enjoying the presence of not one or two but many individual magicians that one could be spared for decades on an otherwise fruitless task – without that, it's hard to imagine a cantrip being developed before the rise of agriculture."

"After agriculture," Professor Toke smiled again. "After farming is an entirely different story. More food meant more people, more people meant more magicians, and the rise of specialization and leisure meant that those magicians could focus on other magics, could spend their lives in other fields. It was, in other words, quite inevitable that war-minded magic would come into being. Yet even here, Charms was not the first field to arise. No, that honor was kept for the discipline of the Dark Arts – or rather, because light magic spells arrived at the same time, we should more properly call it the discipline of the Emotive Arts."

"For that is the different between a cantrip and a curse or cure. The field of Charms is defined by the question of Intent – to make a cantrip work, you must forge a sure and certain link between your own internal intention and the effect you wish to create. A dark or light spell, on the other hand, is defined by a matter of Desire – your magic is shaped, not by mental effort and force of will, but by the strength of your emotion leading you to act. Thus, it is possible to learn the name and incantation of an unknown dark spell, use it for the first time in a moment of high emotion, and the magic will express itself perfectly on that occasion. This could not happen with a normal charm. It is for this reason that curses are often seen as more powerful or versatile than the corresponding charm. This is false, but that is a subject for another day – I would encourage you to ask Professor Lockhart if you're still curious."

"With the proliferation of such spells and counter-spells, curses and cures in ever-increasing number, it could be easily predicted that the magicians – those former totemists and herbologists – would find themselves on the front lines of battle, would be pitted one against another in combat, would define by their success or failure the fate of the entire raiding party and the city behind them. From war it was only a short step to politics, and in politics the entire complexion of magic changed."

"But that… is a subject for another class period."

Professor Toke was pleased to hear a few scattered "aww"s and "darn"s as the students realized that their class time was up.

"By now most of you should have a copy of your new textbook, but for those who do not, I have copied the assignment and relevant chapter for you to pick up from the front. Enjoy the weekend!"

* * *

**A/N:** Thanks for reading, and please review – I look forward to your feedback. I didn't anticipate taking an entire chapter to deal with human prehistory through the rise of farming, but as I did the research I kept finding more and more bits I wanted to include, and pretty soon I had to hold off my long-awaited next chapter (on the true history of ancient and classic magic) for another day. It turns out it's actually kinda fun to twist real history into a magical mold. Lots of real facts here, scattered between bits of fantasy nonsense; it's a pattern I plan to continue for the rest of the story.

This fic was inspired by the 'Map of Magical Europe' that I created to illustrate some of the world-building I'd done for my self-insert fic 'Magical Me'. There's a link to that map on my profile, or you can simply type the following in to your browser's address bar: **imgur . com / a / r9XnQ**. More content, including explanations of the various names and features on the map, can be found on my Discussion Forum, also linked from my profile.

As I mentioned in the last chapter, I can't exactly promise to be a reliable in updating regularly. That's even more true given the year and a half that's elapsed since my last update on either of my main fics. I may be MIA, but I wanted to make it clear that my stories are not abandoned (darn it). Think of it more as an unanticipated indefinite hiatus. Sure. That works.


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